


Love Has a Way

by MaryEvH



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 01:50:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6636100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaryEvH/pseuds/MaryEvH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel Enjolras is just your typical bad boy - hard liquor and women come naturally to him; motorcycles and bar fights are normal fixtures of his life. But one night at his favorite tavern, a pretty girl may change everything...Enjonine, rated Explicit for language, graphic sexual content, and alcohol usage. Collab with my fanfiction.net friend Freedom909.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Underneath the pale moonlight, love has a way of talking. Lovers fight and lovers make up as the streets they’re walking wind on and on. Love has this way of slowing time while making the clock fly by. It makes the night stand still although it always ends with goodbye.

The sky was gray in the haze of the moon, providing the ideal backdrop for the city lights. The Harley motorcycle roared through the streets, dragging a gust of wind behind it. The leaves of autumn’s end scattered through the air as the wheels disturbed their slumber. All the while, the engine was waking the quiet streets, before the rider finally chose his favorite place as a destination.

Suddenly, the engine wasn’t the loudest thing anymore as the noise from the bar could be heard from the sidewalk. The Black Horse Tavern was the place Enjolras most often chose for his escapades. It was farther than The Musain, but the extended travel time was always worth it when he managed to snag a girl to take home for the night – sometimes two. The night would always end in an insane amount of pleasure for him, and an inexplicable amount for the lucky woman – or women. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was that always made him come back to this bar, but love has a way of doing that.

Enjolras cut the engine of his bike and propped it up between two cars. He shook the helmet from his head, letting his loose strawberry blonde locks fall. He slipped his shades on over his eyes to hide their iridescent, irresistible blue, and conceal himself from everyone. This was just how he liked it. He entered the bar with a smirk taking in the scent of alcohol and tobacco from the smokers on the street corner.

“Hey Enjolras!” The bartender shouted in his gruff voice noticing Enjolras’ presence at the door. “Glad of you to make it.”

Enjolras simply glided over to the bar and slipped himself into the barstool. “I always come back, Rich. You know that.”

The bartender just grinned to the man before him. “The usual, then?”

“Make it a double,” he said in a liquid voice as he turned in his stool to lean his elbows on the counter behind him. He eyed the bar through his darkened vision watching every movement and scouting for the perfect one.

“Hey there, handsome. Someone lonely tonight?” The woman sitting next to him asked. Her voice was deep showing off her alluring qualities that made any man quiver at the thought of her mouth on his.

“Depends,” Enjolras started not bringing his eyes to hers, “Only if that ring on your finger stays there all night.”

He could see her face squirm at his comment; he could tell from the corner of his eye that she was blushing as she looked away from him, resuming her conversation with the fellow on her other side.

The bartender returned and placed the two shots of Crown Whiskey behind him. Enjolras flipped around in his seat when he heard the clink of the glasses on the counter. He shot the first one without even a wince. The second glass he let linger in his fingertips a second longer. He craned his neck to the left hearing the sound of a woman squealing with delight at the pool table.

He watched the scene for a moment, weighing his options, deciding if she was worth it. She clasped her hands together as if she had just pocketed a ball. The man standing next to her cheered her on, not forsaking a kiss on her cheek. This girl was charming, maybe a little too perky, but she was definitely cute, and that little dress was leaving nothing to the imagination. And with that boy next to her…well, this would be too much fun to pass up. He downed the drink in his hand and stood from his seat.

In no time at all, Enjolras had drifted to the pool table. “Mind if I join?” He asked nonchalantly.

The other two men standing there nodded to him tossing him a pool stick. The one he’d noticed earlier turned to the girl. “Alright Sabine. Your turn again.”

“Oooh! Perfect!” She clapped her hands again in delight causing Enjolras to smirk. Perhaps this one would be worth it after all. He watched her lean a little too far over her pool stick as she arched her back to line the stick up with the pool ball. He saw his chance, and decided to take it.

“Nah…” he murmured, shaking his head, “You’re doing it all wrong.” The girl picked herself up off the table and looked questioningly at Enjolras. “Let me show you.” He glided his way to her draping his arms around her and positioning his hands over hers. He could feel the intense stares he was receiving but that only spurred him on. Firmly but graciously, he guided her hands with the stick, making sure to lean most of his weight on top of her. “Just like this,” he whispered seductively in her ear. He felt her shiver ever so slightly underneath him. He let his hands fling the stick forward as the ball hit its mark, before he released her.

She was rather quick to face him again. “Could you maybe show me again? I don’t think I’ve quite got it just yet,” she nearly whimpered. Perfect. She was right where he wanted her.

“But you did it perfectly before,” The boy snapped at her. “He doesn’t need to show you again.”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” she insisted, narrowing her eyes at him and quickly turned them pleading to face Enjolras.

“Sure...” he grinned, almost growled, as he leaned over her again resuming their position. This time, he positioned her hands and let go of them to rest his on her waist. “Oh, and make sure you stand like this…” He glided one hand up to her chest and rested it just before the swell of her breast, almost too close for comfort. She gasped a little before moaning in response.

Enjolras smiled to himself at her reaction. He kept his weight on her and slowly edged his other hand on her hip to her front side. The pool stick trembled in her hands as she kept tightening it in response to him. Enjolras kept his hand inching lower and lower until he felt the end of her dress. His fingers curled under it. “Now keep it steady…” he breathed in her ear, “…and…” his finger slowly, gently graced the underside of her panties, “shoot.” She jumped at the touch and the word in her ear, causing the white ball to knock unsteadily into the adjacent ball and land in the pocket.

Her breath was ragged as he could almost see her heart beating in her chest. Enjolras took a step back. “I think I’ll get another drink.”

The girl only stared at him, trying to wipe the pleasure off her face. “A-any...time you want to join us...f-feel free,” she stuttered, still trembling. The other boys eyed him wickedly but Enjolras only smirked to them.

“I’ll keep that in mind; thank you.” He tipped his sunglasses down briefly and turned on his heel. That was definitely more fun than he thought it would be. He had her eating out of his hand, begging him to keep going. He knew that she could only be currently thinking about the things he could do to her in bed. Now that he let her taste it, she wanted it, she craved it, and she loved it. But love has a way of making you lust after what you want; forcing you to ache for it until every desire is fulfilled.

Enjolras sat back down at the bar, tapping it for a refill of his whiskey. He was still proud of himself for the scene at the pool table. Even more than he loved getting a woman in bed – which he practically had down to a science – he loved irritating the other guys making a play for her. Messing with their minds was as fun as playing mind games with women. The girl at the pool table had been putty in his hands. It wasn’t the first time a woman had been so for him, but the feeling of accomplishment never went away.

The door to the bar banged open, and the gorgeous woman who floated in interrupted his thoughts. She was wearing all black, like him – little ankle boots with a slight heel, skinny pants, and a low-cut tank top, all of which clung to her insanely thin, but perfect form. She topped it off with a leather jacket. Her long, dark hair was loosely curled, and she wore smoky eye makeup that drew the attention straight to those dark brown orbs. Enjolras eyed her as she sat at the bar, only a few seats away from him. “What’ll it be, missy?” the bartender asked her in his characteristically gruff voice as she sat down.

“Vodka tonic,” she said in a voice that could almost be called commanding. “With Stoli, if you’ve got it.”

“Coming right up.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Quite a strong choice for a small body like yours,” he noted offhand, sipping his whiskey. “Especially with Stoli. I’ve seen the straight stuff take down a grown man.”

The woman turned to look at him. “I was probably the one to drink that grown man under the table, mister,” she answered, surprisingly not snapping at him. “My father’s a distiller; I knew how to hold my liquor before I knew my numbers and letters.”

Enjolras chuckled. “Quite a feat for a lady, Ms.…”

“Thénardier,” she answered, pushing her hair back. “Éponine Thénardier.”

He couldn’t help but gape. “No. You can’t possibly be the daughter of the most famous distiller in the country.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Auguste Thénardier? The very same.”

Enjolras extended a hand on impulse. “It’s an honor.” She reached her icy hand out to his and their hands met in a clash of heat and cold. The chill of her hand sent a shiver through him while his skin burned against hers. The sensation of her hand was enough to send his heart beating a little faster.

Before Enjolras had a chance to give his name, the bartender returned with her order. “Here you go, sweetheart.” Éponine pursed her lips together in response before transforming them into a delicate smile of gratitude. 

“Bottoms up.” She said as she raised her glass to Enjolras suggestively and downed a sip. He could help but stare transfixed at her as she swallowed her drink without a flinch. Éponine titled her head back to face him. “Never did catch your name, though.”

He smiled slyly down at his now empty glass in hand. “Enjolras. First name’s Gabriel but no one calls me that. Just Enjolras.”

Her eyes now stared ahead of her watching the bottles of alcohol behind the counter while she twirled her glass in her hand, “So, a man who goes by his last name, huh? How…” she titled the corners of her mouth up into a half smile, “…interesting.”

“Either interesting or... _remarkable_ ,” he hummed to his glass.

“More like weird,” she said bluntly causing him to chortle in response. He stopped as soon as he caught her smirking at him amused. Clearing his throat before continuing, “Well, all right, Thénardier – ”

“God no, don’t call me that. I’d feel like my father,” Éponine scoffed sardonically. “Just Éponine,” she let out with a breath.

“Well, then I’m just Enjolras,” he retorted.

She smiled as she brought her glass to her lips. “Whatever you say…Gabriel.”

His face deadpanned. This girl was ridiculous. He had never met someone so stubborn and hardheaded in all his life. It was enough to make his blood boil. So much for even thinking he could take her home, they probably wouldn’t even make it through the front door without arguing about something.

About this time a man sat down on the other side of Enjolras, away from Éponine. He raised his hand to signal the bartender. “Tequila Sunrise!” he called out loudly.

Éponine purred only a few seats away from Enjolras but still loud enough to be heard. “Tequila sounds so good right about now…”

“So get some,” he answered, not necessarily sure if she was talking to him or just out loud.

“I couldn’t,” she said. “Tequila’s my one big weakness. I mean, I love it but it just kinda turns you into another person.”

“Well, they do say, ‘tequila makes your clothes fall off.’”

She chuckled into her vodka. “It’s true.” The bartender placed the man’s drink down on the counter. The smell of the orange juice was overwhelming and Éponine nearly groaned as it filled her senses. “Oh, you’re gonna have to tie me up to keep me away from that, Gabriel.”

His teeth gritted at the sound of his first name. “Don’t tempt me,” he mused.

Éponine knocked back her glass finishing the rest of her vodka. “God, I could use another.”

“Seriously?” Enjolras was shocked. This girl weighed what – maybe a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet, and she wanted more? She was definitely insane, and she definitely would not make it through another one.

“What?” She smirked. “I told you I could drink you under the table.”

“Ha, sure,” He chuckled, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

Éponine turned fully towards him now crossing her arms over her chest. “What? You don’t believe me?”

“I’m just saying, a girl your size…” his eyes gazed her up and down as if he was sizing her up. “There’s no way.”

“And what’s _that’s_ supposed to mean?” She asked lifting her brow.

Enjolras titled his head back and smirked. Maybe he _could_ have some fun with her. “I think after three shots you’d be so out of it, you won’t even know which way is up.”

“Care to place a bet on it then?”

His face turned incredulous. “Nah, you’re not serious.”

“Oh, I think I’m serious,” she said as she leaned back in her chair and cracked her knuckles, “Gabriel,” she added for emphasis.

Enjolras couldn’t help but stare at her. Who did she think she was? She waltzes in here as if she owns the place and now thinks she could out-drink him? Well, what does she know? Gabriel Enjolras was certainly not one to back down from a challenge and especially not one that he could win. Well, he’d show her, “Name the terms.”

Éponine pondered for a moment. “You win, then next week I’ll buy as many drinks as you want. I win, you have to take me on a date.”

Now it was Enjolras’ turn to ponder. He’d never been one much for dates, but there was no way this girl could beat him in a drinking contest. Besides, drinks for a week was just too good to pass up. _There’s no way in hell I’m taking this girl on a date._

He grinned, taking another sip. “You’re on.”


	2. Chapter 2

Nine...ten...eleven...or was that twelve? Enjolras was starting to loose count of the shots, the tips of his fingers tingling as they slowly went numb, his vision blurring a little as he looked at Éponine again. She was still grinning like she was winning, but he was going to show her...right...?

“What’s the matter, Gabriel?” she slurred loudly, jolting him back to reality for a brief moment. “Twelve shots too much for you to handle?”

So it was twelve. “Nah…this is child’s play,” he mused, holding the next shot in his hand. His face contorted as he stared down at it. Trying not to think about his churning stomach, Enjolras brought the glass closer to his lips. Éponine eyed him curiously holding her next shot. Man, how was she so good at this? She barely looked like she was hammered.

“Good, then ready...one...”

“Well, hello there beautiful,” a liquid voice purred from behind Éponine, interrupting her. His hand graced the back of her shoulders, moving her hair over her shoulder to the front, and then tracing down her arm. He slid into the bar stool next to her never taking his eyes off of Enjolras. Enjolras knew him the second he made eye contact. It was the man whose girl he flirted with earlier that night at the pool table.

Éponine raised a drunken lip to the man. “Hi,” she said shortly before turning her attention back to Enjolras.

“Name’s Jay.” But Éponine didn’t turn to him again; she looked incredibly irritated that he had interrupted their competition. “You know, I’ve never seen a girl who can hold her liquor so well.”

Amused, she looked back at him. “What’s that supposed to mean? Girls can have just as good a tolerance as guys, if not better, when it comes to alcohol.” Her head dipped a little as she spoke, fighting against the effects of the shots.

Jay only smirked at her. “I didn’t mean it like that at all. You see…” his fingers found hers and began tracing each groove and crevice, “I think it’s hot.”

Through his blurry vision, Enjolras couldn’t help but stare. He gritted his teeth knowing exactly what Jay was doing. He was getting back at Enjolras for flirting with his girl. And as far as Enjolras could tell, she was nowhere in sight. He chuckled to himself. _Damn, I must’ve made an impression on her if she didn’t even want to spend the rest of her night with this guy._

Éponine gave him a smile when she saw him chuckling. Jay continued speaking, “Maybe after you whip this guy’s ass,” he inched himself closer to Éponine so that he was practically in her lap, “you can meet me in the back. I can even show you a good time.”

She eyed him like she was sizing him up. “Nice try. But Gabriel here is gonna be taking me on a date. Wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea, ya see,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Enjolras fell a little more sober at the sound of his name, making sure to listen more intently. “Well, _Gabriel_ here…” Jay’s tone was laced with venom as he spit his name; his hand found her knee, slowing climbing up, “he probably takes lots of girls on dates. At least, I can…” his hand squeezed her upper thigh, drifting closer, “make it special for you.”

Éponine almost gasped but she held back her reaction to him. Placing her shot glass down on the counter, she took her hand and firmly removed his from her thigh. “Not tonight,” she quipped with a forced smirk.

Jay stood up with a huff, clearly embarrassed by the rejection. He floated around Éponine and stood between the pair, looking directly at Enjolras. “I hope you wash off your boots when you come in. Wouldn’t want her doormat dirtied by someone else’s dust.” Enjolras could only blush a little in embarrassment and he hoped to God Éponine didn’t know what he meant by that.

“Alright, pretty boy, you ready? That was long enough of a break.” She said as she picked her shot glass up again.

The thought of swallowing the next shot made Enjolras want to gag. But luckily, he was a quick thinker and he knew how to stall. “So, I’m thinking about this bet we made – ”

“Oh, no way you’re backing out now! What, scared you’re gonna lose?” Éponine nearly yelled at him.

“No, not that. I’m just thinking you’re not gonna have enough money to pay for all the drinks I’m gonna buy next week.”

“Well, I hope you’ve got enough money for me. I expect some place fancy for dinner.”

“In your dreams.”

“Enough talking,” she said swirling the contents of her glass, “We have more shots to do. One…two…three.”

They knocked back their glasses simultaneously. Éponine let out a sharp breath as she swallowed it hard. “That makes thirteen! You up for the next one?” He tried to open his mouth to say something, but a much less eloquent stream of vomit came out, all over the floor in front of the bar. “HA! I win!” she shouted loudly, thrusting her arms over her head in the traditional victory salute, prompting loud cheers – and even some applause – from the sizable crowd of spectators they'd drawn.

_Damn._

“Well, Enjolras, that’s the first drinking contest I’ve seen you lose since you were about sixteen,” the bartender laughed. “What got into ya?”

Enjolras could only groan. “Thirteen never was my lucky number,” he slurred under his breath. His head was spinning furiously and his thoughts kept reminding him that he now needed to take Éponine on a date next week. God, maybe he was going soft. Well, soft or not, he needed to reclaim his manhood somehow. Suddenly an idea struck him.

“Hey, Éponine…” his voice drawled out, “Sorry about your jeans.”

She looked down to see half of her pant leg covered in his vomit. “Ah! Yuck!” She started grabbing the little drink napkins trying to wipe off it off.

“Yeah, that’s gonna work,” he said with a smirk.

“Looks like I didn’t whip your ass hard enough if you can still make jokes.” There was a hint of amusement in her voice but it was buried beneath her disgust of his vomit on her pants.

“Why don’t you just come back with me? I can help you clean up.” Éponine froze eyeing him skeptically. “C’mon, it’s the least I can do. I didn’t mean to throw up on you,” he insisted.

Her eyes narrowed as her lips curved up showing a hint of her dimples. “It’s the least you can do for now. Next week, I still expect somewhere classy… _that’s_ the least you can do.” She slipped herself off the bar stool as a wobbly Enjolras got to his feet as well. But by sheer force of will he sobered up, snaking his arm around the small of her back and guiding her out of the bar. “Now where the hell did you park?” she asked.

Enjolras chuckled. “My bike’s over here,” he said, carefully steering her towards the curb where his motorcycle was parked. “You’re gonna want to hold on tight; I like to go fast,” he winked. His inhibitions were even lower than usual, he noticed. _Must be that damn tequila talking._

“I like fast,” she laughed, straddling the bike behind him and pulling on the other helmet, wrapping an arm none too loosely around his waist. The ride back to Enjolras’ apartment was very quick, even though he lived on the other side of town. _He does like to go fast,_ Éponine decided as he finally parked. The two of them slowly went up the stairs to his door, and he fumbled with the keys for a moment before unlocking it.

His apartment was mostly bare, but relatively clean. A TV was mounted to one wall as they walked in, opposite a couch and coffee table. The kitchen was to the left, and a hall to their right led to the rest of the rooms. Éponine let her gaze wander around the place, taking everything in.

Enjolras was suddenly unsure of what to do. “Um…”

“Cat got your tongue, hotshot?” she grinned.

As hard as he tried to keep it down, his cheeks flushed red. “Bathroom’s this way,” he grumbled, leading her down the hall. “Since I still gotta haul your drunk ass around…”

“Hey, this was your idea, idiot,” she said, closing the door behind her.

Enjolras couldn’t help but chuckle and roll his eyes. That woman was something else, to be certain. He walked back out to the front of his apartment, already seeing a little clearer. _I guess the vomit was just purging the excess…which means it’s time to start again._

He crouched down by his dishwasher and pulled out his key ring, flipping through them as he waited for Éponine to finish up in the bathroom. “Ah,” he murmured to himself with a smile as he found the key he wanted. The liquor cabinet opened up, and his smile grew. “Hello, beautiful,” he murmured as he pulled out a bottle of wine. “Yes, you’ll do nicely.”

To his surprise, she came out only a few minutes later, just as he finished pouring the wine. “Already?” she laughed. “I’m surprised you can handle another.”

“Before you came along and bested me tonight, I was the best drinker on this side of town,” he grinned, handing her a glass.

Éponine had to admit, she was impressed by how suave he was, even after all they’d had to drink. She’d expected him to lose some quality of his charm under the influence, but he never did. And he wasn’t even slick about it, which pissed her off only the slightest bit. Mainly, she wanted to get closer to him and find out how he did it. Something about him just continued to draw her in…

So she took the glass, and they sat down at his kitchen table.

She lost track of how long they sat there just talking and drinking wine. He never failed to be so suavely charming and simultaneously snarky, as he had in the bar, and yet, he somehow managed to retain this vibe of smoldering sex appeal that made her ovaries quiver. _How does he do it…?_

“So anyway, my great-great-grandfather brought a vine over with him from France when he came over to California,” she heard Enjolras say as she zoned back into the conversation. He’d been telling her about how his family had made wine back in France. “He mixed it with some American vines and made something completely new. Got himself out of a real shit hole that way.”

Éponine smiled. “There’s a story in my family that’s almost more legend than truth, we think – when my ancestors lived in France, around 1832, they were innkeepers. Bad ones, from the records we found. My great-great-great-et cetera-grandfather watered the wine all the time,” she laughed. Enjolras laughed also, taking another sip of his wine. “Remind me again what we’re drinking?”

He set the glass down. “It’s a 2003 Merlot. My great-great-grandfather used to own the winery, and to this day, they still use his procedure to make and age the wine properly.”

Éponine raised an eyebrow, scooting closer. “And what’s that?”

“Well…” Enjolras found himself struggling to remember the process. She was so beautiful, sitting there looking at him like that…

_Oh for God’s sake, Gabriel, get a grip on yourself!_

“After they make the wine, they age it in oak barrels…but for a little longer than the other wineries. After that they move it to…cedar, I think.”

_Good God! What is going on with me?!_

“I’d love to go see it sometime,” she said, grinning. Why was his heart fluttering when she grinned like that? He didn’t get attached. He never had. And he sure as hell wasn’t planning to start now.

But he found himself grinning back, taking another drink from his glass. “I’d love to take you there.”

A pause, her eyes darting from his eyes to his lips, and back.

Then she kissed him.

Needless to say, Enjolras was beyond taken aback. He found himself frozen in shock for a moment, before he closed his eyes. Immediately, it became any other kiss. He found his lips easily moving with hers, his arms gently curling around her tiny form, then gradually tightening around her. However, she pulled back before it got to be too much fun, and Enjolras was slightly disappointed, even though he didn’t quite understand why.

Éponine, on the other hand, seemed slightly flustered by her sudden boldness. “You, uh…” she stammered. “You had some wine on your lip, but uh…I got it for you.”

Enjolras chuckled. “I appreciate it,” he answered, mock toasting her.

Her cheeks flushed red, and he couldn’t help but feel momentarily triumphant. For two reasons – it had been a good kiss, and it was payback for her embarrassing him when they arrived at the apartment. Éponine quickly got up, hurrying into the kitchen. It seemed to Enjolras like she was looking for any excuse to change the subject. Then she saw the open liquor cabinet.

“Oooh, what have we here?” she purred, pulling out a bottle of tequila.

Enjolras chuckled, getting up from his chair enough to gently pry the bottle from her hand. “Remember what you said earlier about this bad boy?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, setting it down on his other side as she reached for it again. “Your one big weakness?”

“I don’t care,” she half-growled in his ear, suddenly kissing him again.

Enjolras knew she wasn’t doing this on accident. She was trying to seduce him, he knew it…and dammit to hell, it was working. He kissed her back, pressing his hands flat against her back again. As quickly as it began, she popped back and flipped a stunned Enjolras against the counter, running off to the back of the apartment with the bottle. He grinned as he started following her. This was going to be so much fun.

She was already in the bedroom by the time he got to the back. He was used to the dim lighting of the room, and he liked the picture he was seeing – she was standing in the middle of the room, tequila bottle in her hand, close to the foot of his tall bed, which was all black except for one red pillow. A nightstand sat next to one side, and a dresser on one wall. They were both laughing hard as she attempted to open the bottle, finally succeeding after about three tries.

“Now, now,” Enjolras pretended to scold in a purring tone, “am I going to have to tie you up, Ms. Thénardier?”

Éponine laughed again, swirling the tequila in the bottle. “That remains to be seen…” she purred back, before snagging a quick sip.

Immediately, Enjolras wrested the bottle from her grip and placed it on the nightstand. Éponine attempted to reach for it, but he was too quick. He grabbed her wrists hard, pinning them against the wall over her head. She somehow managed not to moan, but let a quiet gasp of surprise escape. “Don’t make me warn you twice,” he growled in her ear.

They went for another kiss at the same time, his big hands slowly snaking down her bare arms and allowing her arms to curl back around him. Enjolras’ hands moved under her leather jacket to help her shrug it off, letting her long hair tumble down over her almost-bare shoulders. He allowed himself to run his hands back and forth over her arms and shoulders, marveling at the softness of her skin. Éponine’s tiny hands started to reach under his white shirt, tugging and teasing it up. He obliged her, pulling it off to reveal a muscular chest and six-pack abs any man would kill to have. They were both breathing hard already, but Enjolras had no plans to stop. This was just getting fun.

As they kissed, Éponine lightly dragged one finger down his spine, making him shiver involuntarily. Despite the heat simmering between their bodies, the room seemed to be getting colder. Enjolras slid his hands under her tank top, teasing it up the way she had with his shirt. It was quickly over her head and on the floor, showing off her low-cut, lacy black bra.

“Well, well, well,” Enjolras grinned, trailing one finger down her sternum between her breasts. “These look like they’ll be fun to play with…”

She shivered a little also, grinning. Enjolras graced his fingers back up her stomach applying even pressure on each fingertip. His hand gripped tight right under the swell of her breasts and traced the line of her bra around to her back. He loved watching her writhe with each move of his fingers. It was enough for him to keep his movements slow; just slow enough to torture her. But then, love has a way of opening clasps, of letting the silky material slide from her arms, and of letting it dangle on his fingertips before it falls to the floor.

His fingers found her breasts again, gently kneading them in his palms while his thumbs pressed her nipples. His tongue glided over her collarbone, tasting the thin sheen of sweat that glistened from her skin. Her head fell back against the wall, her mouth open, while her hands clasped his hair for dear life, keeping his head close to her. Her hands pushed his head a little lower, begging him. She was loving this. Enjolras knew to take the hint as his tongue made its way, ever so teasingly, to between her breasts. He started with the right, sucking and occasionally biting her hardened nipples.

He could feel one of her hands leave his head and out of the corner of his eye, Enjolras noticed her reaching for the tequila bottle again. Instantly, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them up over her head like he had before. “I told you not to make me warn you twice…” he growled again. “You leave me no choice, Ms. Thénardier.”

Éponine was clearly breathing hard, but trying to keep playing it cool. “So what happens now?”

Enjolras grinned. “On the bed. I’ll show you.”

She didn’t have to be told twice. Bracing back on the heels of her hands, she pushed herself up on top of the silky black duvet as Enjolras slowly pulled off his belt. Her heart nearly stopped for a second as he grinned almost devilishly at her, hopping with ease on top of the bed.

_Well then…he wasn’t kidding about tying me up._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXTREMELY GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT. READER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED.

_Well then…he wasn’t kidding about tying me up._

Éponine waited with bated breath, propped against the pillows, as she watched Enjolras toss his leather belt up and down against his hands. He was still grinning at her with that same grin that made her wonder exactly what he was planning to do.

Instantly, he had grabbed both of her wrists in one hand. She gasped in surprise, her heart suddenly racing faster. _Damn, how many times is he going to do that?_ Gradually, the belt replaced his tight grip, coiling around her wrists and the closest post on the headboard, until he fastened the buckle. “And _that,_ Ms. Thénardier, is what you get for trying to steal my tequila,” he growled in her ear. She bit her lip; he couldn’t take away all of her cool just yet.

“That’s all?” she purred, her eyes half-lidded with want as she spoke.

He was already getting excited, and that sexy look on her face was only making his predicament worse. His own want was manifesting itself in his groin, and with abandon. He grinned, pressing himself against her and making her gasp. “Well, perhaps I’ll indulge you…perhaps I won’t,” he said casually. “But…”

“But?”

“If you beg for it…I might consider it,” he breathed in her ear, his breath tickling her bare skin and making every hair stand up. God, all she wanted was to kiss him, tangle her fingers in that soft blonde hair…she strained against the belt with all her might, to no avail. The buckle was too secure. He raised an eyebrow as he watched her struggle. “What?” he asked almost innocently, tilting his head to one side. “What do you want?”

She half-whimpered as she looked at him, still straining against the belt. She wriggled her hands uselessly; all she wanted was this thing off so she could finally run her fingers through that hair. She swallowed hard, debating on asking him to take it off, but her pride stood in the way. “Nothing,” she smirked.

He watched her struggle against it, amused, waiting for her to say something, even though he knew exactly what she wanted. “Is that so? You don’t perhaps…want me to take it off?”

“I’ve had worse,” she stated in a deadly whisper, challenging him.

The smirk fell clean from his face for a moment, before it returned even more menacing. His fingers found her face, trailing down her jawline as she shivered beneath him. His touch was electrifying. “I can do worse. _So_ much worse…” he whispered, making her shiver and whimper even more.

Éponine scoffed against her nerves, “Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try.”

Enjolras grabbed her jaw a little too roughly, bringing her face centimeters from his and making her stare into his darkened blue eyes. “Gladly,” he said with a curve of the lip. She couldn’t help her chest from heaving at the incredible closeness of his breath on hers. He let go of her face and trailed his fingers up her arm, dangerously slowly. His body moved as his fingers did, one hand holding himself up while the other made its way to her wrists. His chest was now pressing itself close to her face as he stared at the belt restraining her.

She thought for a split second he was going to undo it and actually untie her. She couldn’t help the slight disappointment she felt that it was over so soon. But as his fingers unlatched the belt buckle, he pulled it tighter, watching her fingers squirm at the pain before he hooked it into a tighter hole.

Éponine hid the grimace on her face as she could feel her wrists throbbing against the tightened belt. She turned her grimace into a smirk as Enjolras moved off of her and sat on his heels. He gazed at her wickedly while she tired to move her hands in the slightest but all in vain. “Better?” He asked her mischievously.

She slowly drew her foot up along her other leg, crossing it over herself to touch his knee. He watched her curiously. “Are you sure…” she paused letting her foot trace up his thigh. She could almost see the tightening of his pants as she asked, “…that’s the _worst_ you can do?” She finished the sentence as she shoved her foot in his crotch.

Enjolras closed his eyes and hissed at the pain, immediately grabbing onto her ankle but not removing her foot from its position. While his eyes stayed closed, she gracefully swirled her foot around that sensitive area, making sure to flick him every so often with her toes.

“Oh, no, Éponine,” his eyes opened and fell upon hers, “I’m only getting started.” The hand that grabbed her ankle started sliding up her leg, pressing itself against the curve of her knee and continuing its ascent up her smooth skin. Her foot twitched involuntarily as he leaned into her.

Suddenly, his lips were on hers again in a blaze of passion. She kissed him back with all the intensity she had. Her hand tried to find his hair only to remember their bound state. He smiled against her lips listening to her hands rattle the belt in vain. His hand started massaging the inner part of her thigh and she couldn’t help let a moan escape her lips. _Dammit._

He chuckled against her before continuing to ravish her mouth again. “You like that?” he whispered seductively between kisses.

Éponine enjoyed tasting him too much to even consider responding, but Enjolras knew he didn’t need an answer from her. Without a warning, his hand jumped from her thigh to her crotch, making her gasp. He firmly began stroking and squeezing her through her jeans, watching as her head fell back against the pillows. His other hand moved to the back of her neck to pick her head back up and bring her lips back to his.

Enjolras moved himself so he was now straddling her, but never letting his hand break contact with her center. His hips started moving against her thighs, while his hand began kneading her with his knuckles.

She sighed against his lips, a little too loudly. She prayed he would just take off her jeans already, but he enjoyed teasing her too much. She couldn’t have that now, could she? Éponine stationed herself, bringing her knees higher, and laid the soles of her feet flat on the bed. She vigorously began bucking her hips in time with his movements, making him growl against her lips. But Éponine was determined not to let him keep the upper hand. She smirked against his lips as her brain concocted her next move. Inconspicuously, she died down her vigorous bucking to a gentle rocking of her hips allowing her to slide her right leg out from between his legs.

Enjolras’ hands soon found her breasts again and began massaging them equally, all while he ravished her lips. The touch of his hands almost made her forget her goal, but she quickly snapped out of her trance. She picked up her leg, laying it over his bare back. She began rubbing the fabric of her jeans all over him, watching as he squirmed at her touch. In one quick movement, she lifted her leg off his back, only to slam her heel back down onto his spine, while simultaneously grabbing his lower lip between her teeth and biting hard.

“OW!” He pulled away from her at the pain, the smirk gone from his face. “Jesus, woman,” he muttered as he massaged his lip between his fingers.

Éponine just smiled, tilting her head to the side innocently. “What’s wrong, Gabriel?” she asked as if nothing had happened.

Irritation flashed through his eyes at the sound of his first name, but in the next moment, a wide grin appeared back on his face. “So that’s how you want to play, huh?” he asked. Éponine simply smiled while she broke eye contact with him to stare at the now evident bulge in his pants. _Damn, I’m good._

Almost instantly, he had her waist in a vice-like grip, making her hold still. His hands slid down to the top part of her jeans, joining at the button. Agonizingly slowly, he pulled her jeans off, tossing them to the floor, and leaving her body bare except for her black lace panties. He licked his lips, admiring her, and her heart started beating a little faster again. She could tell that Enjolras wanted her, no matter how well he acted during this game.

He brought his face so close to her center, relishing in her scent. His hand started massaging her crotch again through the thin fabric. Éponine writhed and moaned quietly beneath his touch, involuntarily closing her eyes. He started chuckling as he kept kneading her soaked panties. Her eyes snapped open to see what he was laughing at. “It seems I really turn you on,” he said when he noticed.

Éponine eyed him darkly, knowing she’d been caught. She needed to think of something quickly. But before she could come up with an idea, his mouth attacked her, sucking at her through her panties. Éponine gasped harshly. God, he was a tease! All she wanted was his lips on her flesh but he knew just how to keep her in suspense.

Enjolras grabbed her hips as she jerked them uncontrollably, wriggling as he nibbled through the delicate fabric. Her chest was heaving again with the thought of him being so close to her, but with the stupid barrier between them was unbearable. She thought about begging; she was so desperate…Éponine didn’t mean to, but she let a whimper escape her throat.

Enjolras laughed again as his hands gripped the top of her panties, his forefingers hooked around them. _Yes! Please!_ Her mind cried. But his hands stopped as her panties where only half way off now.

Her expression fell as she stared at him; he picked his head up and looked at her grinning, “Is there something you want?” He was going to make her beg for it.

Her lips fell into a straight line. “No.” But her voice came out more high pitched than she hoped.

“No?” Enjolras asked with a raised eyebrow. He picked up a piece of her underwear. “Are you sure…?” he purred, letting it snap back down on her and watching her flinch.

She didn’t know how to answer him; afraid he would never get to it if she said yes. Her hands desperately pulled at the belt again, hoping it might have loosened. His fingers started massaging the inside of her thighs again and slowly moved around grabbing her butt. Éponine jerked her body against him and let out a small cry. His hands were everywhere except where she wanted them most.

Enjolras took the hint, even if she didn’t say the words. It was no lie that he wanted to be exactly where she wanted as well. His fingers wrapped around the fabric and painstakingly slow pulled them down her legs. He sat by her feet now, holding the dampened panties in his hands as he admired her naked body. This was her opportunity to take control now, no matter how much she wanted his fingers in her. She crossed her legs one over the other and hugged them to her chest. “Nuh-uh,” she said with a sly smirk.

He eyed her, perplexed. She was refusing him? She couldn’t be. Instantly, his hands found her knees and he tried to pull her legs apart, but she clenched them together with all her strength. He growled as his lips met hers again, hoping to distract her, but Éponine was too smart to be tricked. She didn’t let her muscles stop constricting for one second, even as she kissed him back. His hands desperately kept trying to gain entry to her but she wouldn’t allow it.

Finally, she pulled away from his lips, “Maybe if _you_ beg for it…”

Enjolras was stunned at her nerve. His eyes narrowed. “I don’t _beg_ ,” he responded icily.

“Then you’re not getting it,” she stated with a huff, pulling her legs up.

Enjolras had had it. She was the one tied up, and she wanted to make him beg for it. Oh, she was something else all right. But an idea struck him, even as he grew more irritated at her by the second. He didn’t need to beg. She was the one under his control, and he’d sure as hell make her do what he pleased.

He grinned to himself as he slid easily off the bed, noting the surprise in her face as she sat there, naked and tied up on his bed. His eyes fell on his belt rack, hanging from the top of the open closet door, and his grin only grew. Slowly, he picked up another belt, letting it slide along his palm. He snapped it once, grinning a little wider when she flinched again, as he picked up a second one. “Come now, Ms. Thénardier,” he said nonchalantly, hopping back onto the bed, “do you really think I’m going to hurt you?”

Éponine paused to consider her situation. Here she was, naked and hands bound with a belt, in front of a ridiculously attractive man holding two more belts. “Would you?” she decided to ask, letting more fear seep into her voice than she wanted to.

Enjolras chuckled to himself, letting his fingers dance up her leg and across her hip. “No more than you want me to,” he purred seductively, pulling her lips back to his for another hard, passionate kiss. Forgetting herself for a moment, Éponine kissed him back, straining against the belt around her wrists. He took advantage of his opportunity to shove her legs apart, and she gasped in surprise. _Dammit, Éponine!_

Her irritation at herself was miraculously erased, replaced with pure lust as his hands slowly slid up the insides of her thighs, setting her whole body on fire with his touch. She let her body relax, her head falling back against the pillows and her mouth open with a moan of want. But too soon, she felt the belts curling around her ankles and securing to the bedposts at the foot. Her heart sped up a little when she realized just how immobilized, how displayed she was. Enjolras was licking his lips again as he looked at her, and her eyes darted quickly down to his pants, where the huge bulge was clearly aching to be released. Her mind was racing a mile a minute, thinking about all the things that could happen next, all the things he could do to her…

He must have been thinking the same thing, because he quietly muttered, “Why am I still wearing pants?”

“Because I’m tied up, genius,” she quipped with a grin.

Enjolras chuckled again. “Are you complaining?” he asked, starting to unfasten his jeans.

“Not if you keep doing that,” she grinned.

His grin grew wider, and soon they were kicked off the bed. He knelt between her legs, wearing only his boxers, and leaned in close to nuzzle her face gently, his fingertips dragging slowly down her body. “Now…” he whispered, “tell me exactly what you want me to do to you, Ms. Thénardier.”

Éponine’s breath was ragged in her heaving chest, her heart pounding wildly. “Wh-whatever you want…” she whispered back, trying in vain to keep her voice from shaking.

She could feel his grin as he nibbled her ear. “Damn right,” he growled, right before she felt one hand grab her center. She bit her bottom lip to retain a loud cry as he kept firmly rubbing and stroking her the way he had earlier. Pleasure was shooting through her system like a bullet from a gun, over and over, with every movement of his hand. “God…Gabriel…!” she moaned loudly, her eyes closing as she started to move her hips in time with his hand, desperate.

Then he stopped.

Her dark brown eyes opened, making contact with his blue ones. She noticed how darkened they were, like a shadow had passed over them. She couldn’t decide if they were sapphire, velvet, or both…

“I’ve told you not to call me that,” he growled.

“And have I obeyed yet?” she smirked.

He chuckled again. “No, but you will.”

Éponine raised an eyebrow. “Oh, will I?”

“Yes, you will,” Enjolras answered very matter-of-factly.

Her eyebrow went up further. “How can you be so sure?” She felt the tip of one finger slowly drag across her center, bottom to top, and she shivered when he lingered on her most sensitive spot.

“Because I’ll make you,” he purred in her ear. He pressed on it, making her groan quietly, and murmured a little deeper in his throat, “By morning, the only words you’ll remember how to say will be ‘Yes, please!’”

Before she could catch her breath to retort, two fingers had plunged inside her. Éponine cried out loudly in surprise, which quickly transformed into pleasure as Enjolras pumped his digits fast and hard. Heat rolled through her midsection like whiskey, and she felt herself straining even more against the three belts restraining her. “Oh, Gabriel!” she cried out without thinking.

Abruptly, everything stopped.

Enjolras grabbed her jaw with his free hand, yanking her face close to his. “Call me that one more time…” he growled. “And I’ll make you scream.”

Éponine had to admit she was a little scared now. She couldn’t put that smirk back on no matter how hard she tried. She just stared back at him a little terrified before he started chuckling again. His hand released her jaw delicately.

“Do I scare you?” he asked innocently staring at her expression.

“N-No…” she stuttered, as more of a question rather than a statement.

“No need to be scared,” he said only a little deviously, nibbling her ear while his hands gripped her waist.

Éponine scoffed, “I’m not.” She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious as to what would happen if she said his name one more time. But she figured maybe it was better just to obey for now.

Like she even had a choice as his fingers found their way between her folds again. Her head fell back again as she let out a long moan. His fingers were relentless, diving deep into her, pressing on that sensitive spot, then pulling back out before they plunged in again, faster. Éponine could feel that familiar ache of pleasure rising in the middle of her abdomen; her whole body felt like it was on fire. It was getting hard to focus on anything other than the feeling of his fingers in her, pushing and pulling and pressing without letting up.

It wasn’t long before the heat overtook her body. Her hips bucked wildly in frenzied movements against the mattress as she pulled her limbs against all the restraints. He could feel her walls clenching and unclenching around his two digits but he only increased his tempo pressing them as deep and as far as they would go. Her head bobbed against the pillows as she tried in vain to keep from yelling out at the pleasure. She bit down on her tongue, but his fingers didn’t stop. “Ga…Ga…” she stammered. She didn’t care anymore about who was in control or who had the upper hand. The only thing Éponine currently cared about was the exuberant feeling running throughout her body. And her mind had given up trying to say anything other than his name. “…bri…” she breathed out in a whimper. “…EL!” she finally yelled as he thrust into her so far she felt that her insides would burst.

In a sharp and swift movement, he yanked his fingers out of her, making her gasp. Enjolras casted his dark eyes on her again. But she couldn’t see them as she lied flat against the pillows with her eyes closed and chest heaving. He stared at her watching as she came down from her high.

“You know what I said would happen if you called me that again,” he spoke in dead voice.

Éponine’s eyes fluttered open and gazed at him hazily. “I-I...” she hesitated. Her insides began aching again thinking about what he was going to do to her.

He didn’t even let her finish as he sat back between her legs on his shins. Using one wet hand and one dry hand, he pulled his boxers down, finally revealing his prominence. She could only watch has he sat back and pulled them the rest of the way down his legs and chucked them to the floor as well.

Her breath was ragged again as he climbed his way on all fours and positioned himself above her. He stared straight into her eyes as he lowered his hips and rubbed his bulge along her thigh. He wasn’t about to easily give up teasing her.

Éponine whimpered loudly at the feeling of his touch on her skin. All she wanted was him inside her…she thought if another second passed, she might die from the anticipation. Her wrists and her feet tried pulling at all the restraints again, hoping they might give if she tried a little harder. She was ready to push him in herself if he didn’t do it soon enough.

“What do you want, Éponine?” he cooed in her ear.

She didn’t respond again because the only thing that could leave her lips was a shallow cry as his bulge traced itself over her center. She jerked her hips up suddenly hoping to push herself onto him but he only responded by pressing himself onto her other thigh.

“You want it?”

Éponine breathed out sharply considering her answer.

“You want it?” he asked again in a mocking voice. She tried jerking her hips to meet his again but he evaded her a second time.

“Tell me you want it,” he snickered. “Just say the words…”

She was at a loss. Was she ready to give up all power against him? Hell no. But God! She wanted it so badly. She wanted – no, she craved – him. She let her head fall back again closing her eyes lightly. In between her uneven breaths and her unbearable arousal, she let out a soft “Yes.”

His face contorted into a wry smile. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Yes,” she breathed out again almost inaudibly.

His fingertips found her jaw again, and began delicately stroking her lips. “Yes, what?” he cooed.

Her eyes opened slightly to glare up at him. But when his own arousal poked her so close to where she wanted it to be, she couldn’t help but gasp. “Yes...” she said more firmly.

He grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Beg for it,” he commanded in a dark voice. “Say it.” Éponine shook her head slightly as she shuddered. “Beg!” he demanded, almost shouted, as he pressed his bulge firmly against the inside of her thigh. She let out a loud cry dancing on the edge. All she needed right now was him. Screw it!

“Yes! Please!” she screamed.

With no further prompting, Enjolras plunged straight into her deep, wet cavern, and she let out another loud cry. Her hands jiggled the belt again as the rest of her muscles twitched, trying to press as close to him as she could possibly be. He groaned loudly as he grabbed her hips for leverage, thrusting in and out of her fast and hard. Everything Éponine had felt earlier was suddenly dwarfed by the enormous waves of pleasure washing over her, over and over. Her hands fisted against the belt, and she wished his hair were slipping between her fingers.

Enjolras leaned down to kiss her again, harder and faster than before as his hips continued speeding up, his hands running all over her body. Éponine kissed him back, nearly screaming against his lips at the mounting pleasure in her midsection. She knew what was coming, and she was desperate for it. She started wildly bucking her hips in time with his, gasping for air between kisses. Her ankles pulled against the belts at the foot of his bed, and she arched her back as it finally exploded in a pounding peak of pleasure. He groaned loudly as she clenched around him without letting go. After two more hard thrusts in and out of her, he finally stopped, panting as her walls stayed tight around him. “God, Éponine…” he whispered.

She grinned up at him, hazy-eyed. “Did I wear you out?”

He grinned back, gently stroking her hair back from her face as he slowly pulled out of her. “You could never wear me out, Éponine,” he answered, his voice low and husky. She chuckled to herself, biting her lip as she looked up at him. Enjolras pulled back to kneel between her legs. To her surprise, the belt suddenly loosened around her wrists until it was gone. She watched him coil it up, tossing it on the floor and untying the restraints around her ankles as she rubbed some feelings back into her wrists.

“Already?” she chuckled.

Enjolras responded with a gentle kiss, gently cupping her jaw in his hand. “Well…since you’ve been a good girl tonight…I want to see what you can really do,” he winked.

Éponine grinned back. “Challenge accepted,” she said, pulling him in for another fast, hard kiss. She felt Enjolras’ bulge growing even harder against the inside of her thigh as she pulled her legs up around his waist, letting her feet run up the backs of his legs and making him shiver. She let her hands tangle into his hair, marveling at how smooth and soft it was between her fingers. He grabbed her bottom lip between his teeth as they kissed, pulling gently on it, and she heard a quiet “Mmh,” against her lips. He was clearly enjoying himself. She started to sit up, trying to roll them over.

Enjolras detected her change in movement and pushed her back down “Nuh-uh,” he grinned, kissing her neck and nipping it gently. “Be a good girl.”

She let out an overdramatic sigh, followed by a smirk. “Oh, if I must…” Before he could react, she jerked up and bit down on the tender crevice between his shoulder and his neck. Enjolras hissed, half in pleasure; half in pain.

“Getting a little feisty, are we?” he grinned. “I’ll have to tame that.”

Immediately, Enjolras dove back into her, making her cry out loudly. Her hands sprung up to his shoulders, clawing down his bare back. He gasped loudly, unconsciously thrusting harder. Sweat dripped off his arms and her hair, wetting the black sheets. “You’re gonna scream,” he growled in her ear as he moved, shoving a little harder. Éponine groaned quietly, thrusting with him before he noticed the motion and held her hips down. “Do it! SCREAM!”

Éponine didn’t think she could come again, but between her own arousal and the relentless pace Enjolras had set, the third orgasm hit faster than she thought it would, making her scream at the top of her lungs, her head rolling back. Enjolras could feel himself on the edge as well. _Just one more thrust…_

And then he exploded, spilling himself inside of her. His head fell in the crook of her neck, and the more she kept bucking her hips, the feeling was only growing stronger. Every muscle in him felt tight; he thought he might scream as well. His mouth opened involuntarily, and to keep himself in control, his bit down hard on her shoulder. She started pushing with him against his hands holding her hips, thrusting wildly at his pace. Between the amount of pleasure coursing through her body and the sudden, tempestuous pain in her shoulder, Éponine couldn’t stop screaming.

Enjolras couldn’t help himself from grinning broadly. She was screaming for him, and only him. It made his heart swell just to see what he could do to her. Gradually, the two of them slowed down as the pleasure slowly faded. With a shudder, Enjolras relaxed on top of Éponine, both of their chests heaving.

“Told you I’d make you scream,” he snarled in her ear; she heard the hint of a grin in his voice.

She snorted a little, letting her fingertips gently trace over the raw lines she’d drawn in his back. “Alright, I suppose you win tonight,” she chuckled.

Slowly, Enjolras pushed himself up and pulled out of her, only to fall right beside her on the pillows. Immediately, she snuggled herself into him and he responded by shifting so his hand snaked under her back, pulling her in tighter to him. Éponine turned onto her side so she was now facing him. Both of them were still breathing heavily but neither minded the other’s close body heat right next to their own flushed body.

After a few minutes of just breathing next to one another, Enjolras sat up and began pulling down the bed. The two of them crawled inside the blankets where he laid on his back, and she curled up with her head on his chest. He wrapped one arm around her, brushing his fingers along the ends of her hair and down her back, while he rested his head on his other hand.

His eyes gazed longingly down at her, and he relished in her small breaths against his chest, before he noticed the angry red marks across her wrists. Enjolras moved his hand from behind his head and picked up one of her wrists. She watched him curiously but let him bring her wrist to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss to it. “Sorry,” he murmured, gently petting it.

Éponine took her hand and cupped his jaw. “It’s okay, it didn’t hurt much.” Her hand fell down and back to his chest along with her eyes. “It was actually quite fun,” she whispered into his skin.

His hand began stroking her hair again while the other laced his fingers with hers and he grinned to himself. “You’re amazing, Éponine. You know that, right?”

“I do now…” she said wearily as her eyelids softly closed and her breathing evened out.

After a few more moments of silence, Enjolras whispered to her, “Éponine? Éponine?” But she didn’t stir. She was truly sleeping.

He couldn’t help the smile that graced his lips as he watched her. She was perfect. She was easily the prettiest girl that had ever found her way into his bed. But she was more than pretty…she was beautiful. Everything about her was beautiful. He couldn’t help but love the way her breaths tickled his chest, or the way her hair fell down her back, or the way her fingers could just stay wrapped up with his. Enjolras just couldn’t help but love every bit about her. Every detail on her skin and every crevice on her body. He just loved her.

_Oh, for Christ’s sake. Get ahold of yourself, Enjolras. You can’t love her, you don’t love anyone._

And that was precisely it; he didn’t fall for girls. And he especially didn’t fall in love with them. He only used girls for the night and come morning it was over; that’s how it always was. His mind told him to get up, go sleep on the couch, do whatever, just don’t get attached. But his body wouldn’t move. He couldn’t move. He loved staying with her too much.

But love has a way of making you stay together wrapped up with each other even if your mind tells you not to.


	4. Chapter 4

The morning light came and Éponine’s eyes fluttered open. For a brief moment she couldn’t remember where she was, but as she beheld the dark sheets and the warmth next to her, she finally remembered her night with Gabriel Enjolras.

The two were spooned together with her back to him and his arms wrapped tenderly around her; one over her waist and the other cupping her breast from underneath. As she moved slightly, her limbs started to ache. She soon remembered how he had bound her hands and feet with his belts only a few hours ago. She gazed at her hands in front of her only to see the small lines of brown surrounding her wrists; she was sure her ankles looked the same.

Gently, she turned herself over so she was now facing Enjolras. His closed eyes showed off his long blonde eyelashes, and his mouth was slightly parted. She could feel his gentle breath tickling against her own lips. He looked like an angel as he slept. There was no flaw anywhere to be found in his features. God! He was beautiful. Éponine couldn’t help the smile that graced her lips as she watched him. He was just so perfect it almost hurt.

Éponine could feel her stomach tighten as she looked at him, and she knew those signs all too well. She liked him. But it couldn’t just be that she liked him, no, if her stomach was feeling like _this_ …the twisting, the aching, the quickened heartbeat…no it couldn’t be. But it was; Éponine _loved_ him.

And everyone knows that love has a way of making you crave what you want, making the desire ache inside of you until you have no choice but to fulfill it.

Suddenly she couldn’t help it anymore; she couldn’t only stare at him. Éponine needed to fulfill it. She inched herself close enough so she could feel his breath on her tongue. She parted her mouth just like his, placing her lips against his. Her eyes closed and she kissed him deeply and passionately. It wasn’t long before she felt his hand grip her waist and his lips moved against hers rougher, pushing his face into hers as his tongue slipped inside her mouth. His other hand slid up to the back of her head, pulling her to him. His eyes remained closed but she knew he was fully awake now.

His hands pulled her body into him so she was flushed right up against his bare form. She hooked one leg over his hip and used her hands to push his shoulders down flat against the bed. In an instant, Éponine was on top of him, never removing her mouth from his.

Finally she pulled back slightly, gasping for air. His eyes opened and met her dark pupils, shining with lust. He smiled to her darkly, “Now this is a wake-up call I could get used to.”

Éponine laughed, tickling his face with her breath as her hands traced along his jawline. “Well, good morning to you too,” she giggled.

He grinned sleepily at her for a moment, his hand tracing little patterns in the hair on the back of her head. It wasn’t long before he pulled her face back down to meet his. Éponine rocked her hips against his and she soon could feel him growing hard beneath her. Enjolras’ breath hitched in his throat the second he felt her grab his hardness between her legs, squeezing it lightly and playfully. She could only giggle as she watched him squirm under her.

All too soon, Enjolras broke contact with her lips and gripped her wrist firmly, pulling her hand up between their bodies. Éponine whimpered a little but Enjolras responded by flipping them over and pinning her wrists above her head.  “No fair,” she pouted.

Straddling her, he placed a set of kisses along her jawline and down her neck. “Didn’t you learn anything from last night?” he asked playfully. “I’m in charge,” he growled.

“But _I_ want to be in charge this time,” Éponine whined, hoping he might oblige if she complained enough.

His mouth found hers again and kissed her abruptly, taking her breath away. He whispered into her lips, “My bed, my rules.”

Her teeth grabbed onto his bottom lip before sucking lightly. “Oh fine,” she breathed after a moment.

Enjolras moved his head down to between her chest, licking and nipping at her gingerly. Éponine let out a long moan as he took one of her nipples between his teeth. He pulled back after a moment and stared up at her, “And what else did you learn last night?” he asked as he rubbed his length along her thigh. She moaned again louder as her insides began to ache more fervently. He cast his eyes up to her with a look of intensity. “What do you say?” he pressed.

Éponine debated her options for a moment. Don’t say the words and risk another belt, or say the words and relinquish all power to him. But as he pressed himself against her center, she couldn’t help the sigh that escaped. Well, if she said it, she would at least get what she wanted. And she wanted him so bad…

After a solid minute of moaning and whimpering, Éponine finally said it: “Yes…please.”

“Good girl,” he breathed, grinning wickedly to her before he gave her what she wanted. His hips fell into the same pattern they had the previous night. Plunging into her over and over while she moaned and whimpered. She pulled her wrists from between his hands and gripped his shoulders. All she wanted was to hold onto him for dear life. The bed bounced at the force of Enjolras thrusting into her, but neither of them cared.

“En...jol...ras...” she moaned each syllable with each thrust, forgetting to bother him with his first name. Éponine could feel it building inside of her again. The heat was pooling and her walls were tightening. And finally, her mouth hung open and she let the feeling overtake her body, succumbing to every inch of the man on top of her. It didn’t matter anymore; in that moment she was his, he could do whatever he wanted to her and she wouldn’t care.

His pounding continued as his mouth opened. “Épo…nine…” he groaned into the crook of her neck. She held the power to fulfill his every desire in this moment. He couldn’t help feeling that he was incomplete without her body tangled with his. He’d never felt like this before. It was a feeling that he felt not only in his groin, but also inside him. He just needed her. He let this feeling drive him to his high as he continued to thrust into her. In time, his thrusts became long and sporadic as the exhaustion finally wearied him.

Both were feeling the effects of the blissful night before. Her hips had long ago stopped rocking with his, as she lay spent on the black sheets. His damp body finally collapsed onto hers and both panted as they tried to catch their breaths.

After a few moments, he picked his head up and spoke softly. “Now that is a ‘good’ morning.” Éponine only snickered softly as he pulled out of her, shuddering with one final moment of bliss. He lay on his back in the damp sheets gazing up at the ceiling. “Do you have to work, or do you wanna stay for breakfast?” he finally asked breaking the silence of their labored breathing.

She turned her head to stare at his and his eyes drifted from the ceiling to hers. “I have to meet a friend this afternoon, but…I’m free this morning.”

His hand reached out a tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. “Good,” he smiled. After they both could catch their breaths, Enjolras picked himself up off the bed, and Éponine watched him as he wandered around the room nude. “Bathroom is through there, if you want to take a shower,” he announced, opening his drawers and gesturing to the door.

Éponine sat up in bed, hugging the sheets around her. “Thanks,” she said as she slid off the bed, taking the sheet with her.

Enjolras turned around and smirked to her. “I think the time for modesty is over, Éponine.” He chuckled to himself while she blushed, “Actually, I think it was over the second you were naked and tied up on my bed.”

Her face only reddened more at his quip. “Well, I’m gonna take a shower,” she concluded to hide her blush from him. She nearly ran past him to the adjacent bathroom, the sheet in tow, before she shut the door behind her.

Éponine took a deep breath as she sat on the toilet seat. _God! What have I gotten myself into?_ Enjolras was perfect, she could not find one flaw about him. Even the comment he just made made her love him more. She needed to get a grip on herself. Turning the shower on cool she hopped in, hoping to clear mind of him, but it proved to be an impossible task. She was in his bathroom, for God’s sake! She was using his shampoo, his soap, his towels and his hairdryer.

However, she was impressed with herself, by forty minutes she was done with everything. She peeked her head out of the bathroom, with only the towel around her to find the bedroom empty. She could hear pans clanking in the kitchen so she knew he wasn’t far.

But before she could wander out she needed to find some clothes. She picked up her discarded jeans and searched about the room for her shirt when her eyes fell on his dresser. _Now there’s an idea…_

She immediately left her clothes on the bed and opened his drawer, pulling out a pair of boxers and one of his t-shirts. She slipped them on, not bothering with her own bra and underwear, and left his bedroom to find him.

As she turned the corner and he saw her, Enjolras couldn’t help but gape. Her hair flowed beautifully down her back and she smiled shyly. But the major detail was that she was wearing his clothes. It was just too perfect a sight, and he couldn’t even tear his eyes away from her. His brain couldn’t even form a coherent thought as she slithered her way through the kitchen to the stove to see what he was cooking.

And that was when he breathed in her scent. It was altogether her, mixed with the smell of his shampoo. He could feel his body aching for her all over again, and he suddenly needed to close his mouth to keep from drooling. _Jesus, Gabriel, snap out of it! She’s just a pretty girl…granted, she’s a very pretty girl, but she’s nothing more than that!_

“So, what’s for breakfast?” Éponine asked coolly behind him.

He looked at her again, and even though he could hardly breathe, he somehow managed to speak. “I was thinking just the basic eggs and bacon, unless you have an issue with meat.”

She scoffed. “Hell no. I live on the stuff.”

Enjolras couldn't help his chuckle. “God, Éponine. You can hold your liquor better than most men I’ve met, you’re _amazing_ in bed, _and_ you’re not afraid to eat meat. How much better do you get?”

Éponine grinned devilishly, and he noticed his heart quickening. “I’m afraid if I stick around long enough to show you, you may not be able to walk for the rest of the day,” she purred, checking the eggs and bacon. “Or maybe the next few days…” she added casually.

“Quit tempting me,” he teased, grabbing two plates and serving up the food. Éponine was already seated at his kitchen table as he placed the plate of food in front of her. She stared at her food hungrily and began eating before Enjolras even had a chance to sit down. “Slow down, Ép, it’s not going anywhere,” he chuckled as he watched her.

Éponine swallowed what was in her mouth before speaking, “Can’t help it. All our _fun_ last night…and this morning…just made me really hungry.”

Enjolras just sat there smiling as he was lost in thought by her once again. He loved the way she sat there looking at him from across the table resting her head in her hand, which was propped up by her elbow on the table. He loved the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about anything, and the way her eyebrows wiggled when she mentioned _last night_ to him. And he loved the way he could see the swell of her breasts perfectly through his t-shirt on her. All of it just made him want to jump on her all over again. But love has a way of making you see all the little things you had been missing before.

“Hello! Earth to Gabriel!” He finally heard her say as she waved her hand in front of his face.

His eyes snapped up from staring blatantly at her chest to her face. “You know I don’t like when you call me that.”

“Well, I called for Enjolras three times but you finally responded to Gabriel.” Suddenly, Éponine leaned into him, gradually closing the distance between them. “But you know…” Her face was only centimeters from his own now, and his heart was pounding. “I wouldn't mind if you punished me again for it.” And then her lips her on his again, and his hands automatically gripped her waist and pulled her onto his lap so that she was straddling him.

His hands attacked her breasts and before either of them knew what was happening, it was happening right there on the kitchen table. He didn’t know, even as the high hit him again, how she did this to him – how she made him forget everything else, how she entranced him over and over again. But love has a way of keeping you drawn in, even when you’re not sure why.

It was near noon when Éponine finally redressed and stood by the door with her bag ready to leave. “Are you sure you have to go, Éponine?” Enjolras asked, placing his hand above her on the door to keep it shut. She flipped around to face him and pressed her back against the door. Her breath hitched as he lowered his head down to her slowly.

She smirked mischievously. “I’m afraid if I stay here any longer, you might get bored with me.”

“I could never be bored with you.”

“Sure,” Éponine entreated, breaking eye contact with him and casting a sidelong glance to the floor.

But Enjolras lightly grabbed her chin and brought her lips up to meet his. In a chaste and sweet kiss, he pushed all of his feelings onto her, hoping she would know just how much she meant to him in this brief sentiment. They pulled apart before the kiss became too heated and he rested his forehead against hers.

“I mean it,” he whispered.

Éponine could feel the butterflies fluttering about in her stomach just as much as she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. Suddenly, she felt nervous standing so close to Enjolras. Her hand reached behind her and fumbled to grab the doorknob. “Bye, Enj…” she breathed. With one final look, she slipped out of the door, closing it gently behind her.

Enjolras fell against the door where she had been standing just moments before and sighed. So she was gone. But so many other girls had come and gone out of his apartment just the same. Yet, Éponine was different for she was still here in his thoughts. It was weird, he had been living alone for some time now and usually after a girl would leave him, he would continue on with his day. But for some reason in these few moments after Éponine had left, he felt very alone for the first time in his life.

 

“Hey, where have you been all night? You didn’t even bother to tell me you weren’t coming home,” Muschietta kindly scolded as Éponine walked through the door of their two-bedroom apartment. Éponine swung her bag dreamily over the recliner before plopping onto the couch and sighing loudly. Muschietta strolled over to the couch and kicked her roommate’s legs over the side before plopping down next to her. “What’s his name?” she asked, not at all trying to hide the smile playing across her lips.

“Gabriel,” Éponine sighed dramatically.

“Oooh…so tell me about him! You can’t just leave it there!”

Éponine picked herself up off the couch so she was sitting up. “Well, I met him last night when we sorta had a drinking contest at the bar…”

“…And?”

“And I creamed his ass, of course!” Muschietta face-palmed laughing at her friend. “And since I won, he has to take me out on a date! Well, it led to him taking me back to his place, where we had some wine…and tequila…”

“Oh God…you didn’t?”

“I did! Well, _we_ did. And ‘Chetta, it was beautiful. I swear I saw God! And like four times! Four _beautiful_ times!” she exhaled falling against the couch cushions again. “Then of course, this morning too…”

“Shut up!” Muschietta shrieked like a schoolgirl. “Last night _and_ this morning when you woke up?”

Éponine nodded enthusiastically, biting her lip, before she confessed, “…and on the kitchen table after breakfast.”

Muschietta slapped her friend in the arm playfully. “Girl! How are you even walking right now? Sounds like you two were just at it like rabbits.”

“I don’t even know, but all I do know is I would do it all over again every night with him.”

Muschietta gasped. “Ép, you like him.”

Éponine scrunched her face. “Is it that obvious?”

“Totally.” She paused glancing at the time. “Hey, so you gonna tell Marius why you’re late for your coffee lunch?”

Éponine's eyes snapped open and she saw the time under the television. “Crap! I completely forgot our lunch at one. Shit, what do I tell him?”

“How about the truth? This is only lunch so you can help him with his business proposals for Cosette’s father.”

Éponine relaxed as she sighed again. “I guess, but ‘Chetta…”

“What?”

“Is it bad if I just cancel with him? Seriously, I don’t even want to go. All I want to do right now is lie here and think about Gabriel.” She closed her eyes and fell down against the couch again. She breathed heavily as she started to recall, “The way his lips felt against mine, the way his hands travelled along every inch of me, the way he pressed himself against me, the way his – ”

“Oh God, enough Éponine!” Muschietta chided before she could elaborate further. “I don’t need every detail of your sex life. But fine, then just call Marius and reschedule.”

“Sounds like a plan. Toss me my phone in my bag?”

Muschietta picked herself up off the couch and sifted through Éponine’s bag before tossing her her phone. She then busied herself in the kitchen while making sure she was close enough to hear one side of Éponine's conversation – as best friends always do.

“Hey Marius,” Éponine greeted into the phone. “Yeah listen, I’m sorry that I won’t be able to make it for lunch today…I know, I’m sorry it’s so last minute, but at least I caught you before you got there…” She laughed nervously before continuing, “No, it’s just that I got home really late and I'm just a little tired…I promise I wouldn’t be much help…alright…look, why don’t we just pick a new day?...Yeah, no, Tuesday works…the Musain…where is – oh, okay…yup, got it – four o’clock then…okay, see you. Bye.” Éponine hung up and fell exasperated back on the couch with her arm covering her eyes. 

“The Musain?” Muschietta inquired curiously, peeking her head out of the kitchen, “That’s where Joly and his friends do their meetings…well really, the meetings are just excuses to get drunk – ”

“Yeah, that’s what Marius was saying. We’re gonna meet up before their meeting at five.”

“See, nothing to worry about, Ép.” She entered the living area and rested over the back of the recliner. “Now you can catch up on sleep and dream about _Gabriel_!” Éponine let out a long sigh in response to his name. “So when is this date gonna be? The one you supposedly won?”

“Dammit!” Éponine shouted sitting straight up with realization. “I never got his number…”

Muschietta took a seat back on the couch next to her. “That sucks…he must have yours, right? You at least gave it to him?”

“Yes, ‘Chetta, I totally gave him my number between being tied up on his bed and doing it on the kitchen table,” Éponine deadpanned in her usual sarcastic manner.

Muschietta snorted. “Well, he’s a guy. If he really wants you, he’ll find you. He’ll make it happen.”

Éponine let out a long disappointed breath. “I guess so. I just worry that he won’t…”

Muschietta reached her arm around Éponine and pulled her into a side hug. “It’ll work out, honey, okay?” Éponine nodded grimly. “Now tell me the part of the story you neglected about being tied up on his bed…?”

And suddenly, the broadest and most wicked smile crossed Éponine’s lips.

 

Enjolras sighed to himself, rubbing his temples. He certainly liked her more than he cared to. She’d been on his mind all day, when a normal one-night stand would have been long gone from his mind by now. The way she had come out of the bedroom that morning wearing his clothes…countless women had done it before, trying to woo him; why the hell was it working with her? In his mind, Enjolras quickly catalogued all of the women he could remember ever taking to bed. Out of all of them, she was by far the prettiest – no, not just that, she was the most beautiful – the wittiest, the best in bed…

Enjolras needed something, anything, to get his mind off her. But what? Everywhere he looked, he was reminded of her. In his own apartment, for Christ’s sake! What the hell was it about this girl that seemed to permeate every aspect of his life, even after she was gone? How could she capture him over and over again, and keep them going at it like horny little rabbits? More importantly, why did he care? Perhaps a hot shower would clear his head…his mind made up, he walked back to his bathroom, resolving not to think about her anymore.

But that was when he saw the towel on his bedroom floor.

He paused in the middle of the room, staring down at it for a moment, before he gently picked it up. It was still slightly damp, and still smelled of his shampoo from her shower that morning. Enjolras found himself aching for her all over again, wishing she were still there. With a bitter snort, he remembered the lectures he got in his adolescence from the priests at church. As he reached sexual maturity, he remembered all the warnings he got about what would happen to him if he thought or acted impurely. _I wish they could see what I’m thinking now…_

Enjolras had to find her. He knew he did. But how…?


	5. Chapter 5

It had been the longest two days of Éponine’s life. She sat at the kitchen table in the apartment she shared with Musichetta, a cup of coffee in her thin hands, waiting for a phone call she knew would probably never come. She hadn’t given him her number; what the hell was she supposed to expect? It was pretty much impossible for him to contact her.

But she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at her phone, just waiting for the screen to light up with a foreign number that she just knew would be his. The words Musichetta said rang through her ears. _“If he really wants you, he’ll find you. He’ll make it happen.”_ Though, every time she looked at her phone and saw a black screen, her hope faded just a little more. 

Yet, Éponine couldn’t help but wonder if he really was planning to contact her at all. What if she really _was_ nothing more than a one-night stand? It was obvious he did this sort of thing often, so she shouldn’t expect this time to be any different for him. But they made plans for a date, right? That meant something, didn’t it? It had to…unless it was just a lie. But all those things he said to her…

_“I could never be bored with you…I mean it.”_

She could hear his voice so clearly in her mind; she so clearly remembered the look in his eyes when he spoke. He had seemed so genuine then…but what if it was just another lie? Maybe he said that to every girl he took home and tied up on his bed. Éponine pushed away the little piece of hope that told her she was special, that told her he was sincere, that said she should believe him, that she should hold out for him. There was no use in getting your hopes up just waiting for that one call that may – no – that _won’t_ ever come.

Éponine hated this. This is why she never fell for anyone. She’d been down this road before and it always led to heartbreak. She couldn’t take the disappointment that followed after falling in love. Because love has this way of making you hurt just wishing and wanting that one person. And when they never follow through all you’re left with is desolation.

Finally bringing the coffee to her lips, she took a sip only to swallow it with a grimace at the realization of it finally being cold. There is nothing worse than cold coffee. Not even a broken heart.

 

Enjolras stepped out onto the petite balcony of his apartment. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it up. He leaned his forearms over the railing and brought the cigarette between his lips. 

His landlord hated smoking; it was actually prohibited. Though, he figured on the balcony, no one would know. But right now…he needed it badly. For the past two days, he had been driving himself insane. How the hell was he supposed to find Éponine? This mysterious girl who came into his life completely by chance, but had refused to leave his mind. He kicked himself for forgetting to get her number; what the hell had he been thinking?

 _Obviously you weren’t thinking; you were too busy ogling at her to even think clearly,_ he berated himself.

He had Googled her name but came up empty; though he did find an Éponine Thénardier that worked at Prudential Financial as an Investment Research Analyst. He found an office phone number for her, but as he got the number all ready to call, he just couldn’t. His mind started berating him telling him to forget her. Maybe she wasn’t worth the trouble. She was a one-night stand – a _really_ _great_ one-night (and morning) stand – but that was it and that was all she should be. There shouldn’t be any more interaction with her. He should forget her name just as he had forgotten every other girl’s name he had ever taken to bed before. Even still, the irrational side of him told him that there could be multiple Éponine Thénardiers and this could be one of many. How embarrassing would it be if he called and it wasn’t her?

So now here he was, trying to clear his mind with one cigarette after another. What if she had forgotten about him already? What if she had a boyfriend? What if their whole night together meant nothing to her? All these “what if” scenarios were exactly why he didn’t get attached. Love was too much work to deal with. Because love has a way of making you worry until your heart hurts and your mind drives you insane.

But clearly, he thought as he lit another cigarette with the ashes of the first, it was too late for him. His cigarettes were running one after the other, trying to forget her, but it was no use.

He knew he had to find her, before the thought of her drove him crazy.

 

“Come _on,_ ‘Ponine,” Musichetta said as she walked into the kitchen where Éponine was still sitting with her cold coffee. “You’ve been doing nothing but moping for two days. Maybe you should get out of the apartment; you might stop thinking about this guy.”

She groaned quietly. “I really don’t feel like going anywhere, ‘Chetta…”

“Maybe you _need_ to get out and do something, Ép. Even if you don’t want to,” her roommate said gently. “Come on. Let’s go to the Musain and get drinks or something.”

Éponine frowned and checked the time on her phone. “It’s 2:00 in the afternoon, ‘Chetta.”

“I didn’t say _alcoholic_ drinks, ‘Ponine. Have a little faith,” Musichetta laughed. “Come on, let’s go.”

Éponine sighed, picking up her keys. “Alright, fine, we’ll go.”

 

“I don’t know why you insisted on dragging me down here,” he said more than a little impatiently as he finished placing a drink order. “What’s the big deal?”

“None of us had heard from you in almost three days, Enj. Everyone’s been worried,” Combeferre said calmly, taking a sip of his gin at their little round table in the Musain.

“So, won’t you enlighten us on where you’ve been?” Grantaire said almost mockingly. Enjolras just sighed placing the heels of his hands in his eyes and leaning on the table. “Oh no, I know that sigh…” Grantaire concluded with a roll of his eyes. “You went to the Black Horse this weekend, didn’t you?”

Enjolras grit his teeth, dreading the mocking that was sure to come. “Yup.”

“Picked up a hot girl?”

“Gorgeous.”

“And how was this one in the sack? Scale of 1-10?”

“No, you don't understand. This time, it wasn’t just any girl –”

“We’ve all heard that one before,” Combeferre cut him off, giving a little snide chuckle. “What makes this one different?”

“Seriously guys,” Enjolras deadpanned. “This girl was incredible. No, she was…unbelievable.” He tossed his head back, lost in thought about her. “Ahh…she was everything…”

Grantaire and Combeferre exchanged smirks. “You sound like Marius,” Grantaire piped in only to receive another death glare from his blonde companion. Enjolras hated being compared to Marius. “So what happened, the usual weekend routine? You do that _every weekend,_ Enj. What else is new?”

“I’m serious! This girl, she wasn’t like all the others.” He sighed again. “She didn’t just go quietly along with what I wanted…she actually fought back, you know. _She_ wanted to be in charge.” He chuckled as the memory of her washed back over him. “And she wouldn’t relent until I had her completely tied up…” he smirked mischievously.

Combeferre nearly choked on his gin. “You’re serious?”

“Oh, I’m serious,” Enjolras confirmed softly with a long slow nod.

“Damn…” his best friend muttered.

Grantaire, on the other hand, wasn’t so easily sidetracked. “So, you’re moping now because she left you?” he scoffed. “For God’s sake, Enj, it was a one night stand. What did you expect to happen? You’d get married and have amazing sex forever and ever?”

“Well, no,” Enjolras responded indignantly. “But I never got her number, and I never gave her mine. I don’t even know how to get in contact with her if I wanted…” he sighed again. “So…I’ve just been trying to forget her.”

Combeferre set his glass down on the table with a loud bang, startling both of his friends. “So you’re just going to give up? That’s not the Enjolras I know. If you like her this much, then go for her. Find her!”

“But I don’t even know how –”

“Go back to the Black Horse,” Combeferre said. “Knowing you and your sexual prowess, chances are she can’t forget you either. She might show up there again looking for you, too.”

Enjolras’ eyes lit up. “I hadn’t even thought about that.” His chair scraped back against the floor as he stood to his feet abruptly. “I’ve got to go.”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, Enj,” Grantaire reprimanded gently. “It’s, like, 2 in the afternoon, there’s no rush…”

Enjolras slowly sat back down and shook his head. “I guess you’re right…” He fidgeted with his hands for a bit and then stood back to his feet. “I’ll be right back.” And with that, he crossed the room to the restroom.

As soon as the door closed behind Enjolras, the main door to the Musain opened and two pretty girls walked in. Musichetta eyed around the nearly empty bar room until her eyes saw two familiar sets of eyes. She waved and they spotted her as well, waving back.

Éponine gave them a little smile, but she didn’t really know them, they were Musichetta’s friends, whom she only knew through Joly. After the brief greeting, Éponine led Musichetta to the bar counter. They both took a seat side by side with their backs to Grantaire and Combeferre. Musichetta signaled the bartender over and ordered two sodas for them. He returned shortly and placed the bubbly liquid in front of them.

Éponine took a sip and sighed. “Aw, c’mon,” Musichetta scolded lightly. “Don’t be upset. We’re supposed to be having fun right now.”

“Yes, ‘Chetta, this is tons of fun…” she mocked.

“Look, you just have to get your mind off Gabriel.” She eyed about the nearly empty bar and then her eyes landed back on the bartender. “Oooh,” she cooed. “The bartender is single.”

Éponine rolled her eyes at her friend's smirk. “And he’s got elephant ears.”

Musichetta slapped her friend in the arm. “Appearances are vain. C’mon, talk to him. I’ll call him over –”

“No, ‘Chetta please –”

“Yoo-hoo!” she said holding her arm up and signaling the bartender again. Éponine blushed bright red as she saw him start to head their way.

“No, no…” she mumbled and slipped herself off the barstool.

“Ép, where are you going?” Musichetta asked tersely but quietly.

“I’ve got to pee,” she shrugged and scooted away before Musichetta could protest. Éponine slipped into the bathroom just as the door to the men’s room opened across from her in the little bathroom alcove.

Enjolras emerged and walked back over to his friends. “Alright, I’ve decided that I’m going to go now anyway. And I’ll wait there all night if I have to,” he announced pulling out his wallet to leave money for his drink. “I don’t care how many hot women come my way.”

Combeferre sighed, “Alright, do what you have to I guess.”

“Oh! Hi Enjolras!” a female voice sounded behind them.

Enjolras turned around to see Musichetta sitting at the bar, waving to him. “Hi Musichetta,” he said as he walked over to her. “Are you here alone?” he asked a little curiously, noting that she was the only one sitting at the bar.

“No, my friend just went to the bathroom. You should meet her!”

He shook his head regretfully. “No, sorry, I’ve got to be somewhere now. Another time, perhaps?”

“Alright,” she said a little disappointedly. “Well, I’ll see you around then, okay?”

“Sounds good to me.” He pushed his chair in and started to walk away. “Bye guys, bye Musichetta.”

“Bye Enjolras!" she called and then turned her attention back to the bartender. “My friend will be right out. I think she’s just a little shy.”

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Éponine wasn’t sure if she ever wanted to leave that bathroom again. Musichetta had told her this would be a fun afternoon, just the two of them…but for her, it was turning out to be the opposite of fun. This was all the confirmation she needed – it was going to take more than an afternoon with her roommate to get Gabriel out of her head.

Shit.

She sat there for almost 10 minutes, trying to avoid going back out there. Musichetta was making this way harder than it needed to be, and she didn’t even really want to be there in the first place…

But right on cue, her roommate opened the bathroom door. “Éponine? Didja fall in or something?”

She couldn’t keep in a groan. “Right here, ‘Chetta.”

“There you are!” the other woman said delightedly, before promptly pounding on the stall door. “Come on out; I’ve already told the bartender so much about you,” she teased.

Éponine grit her teeth. “Dammit, ‘Chetta…”

“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re not having fun,” Musichetta said.

The other woman sighed angrily. “You want me to be honest? I’m really not having fun right now,” she snapped. “I’d be happier brooding over /Gabriel,/ as much as you try and make me stop.”

Surprise and hurt crossed her roommate’s face. “You’re really not having any fun at all?” she asked dejectedly.

“I’m really not having any fun at all,” Éponine repeated grimly.

Musichetta sighed in mild frustration. “Well, at least give the bartender a chance?” she asked a little desperately. “He really does want to talk to you.”

Éponine sighed. “Fine, but don’t expect me to be happy about it.”

“As long as you’re civil, I won’t pitch a fit.”

“‘Lo there, ladies,” the bartender smirked, wiping down the bar quickly before tossing the towel under. (Descriptors) “What can I get for ya?”

“How about a Long Island Iced Tea?” the blonde smiled, before turning to her dark-haired companion. “What’ll it be for you, ‘Ponine?”

“Just a Coke?,” the brunette asked.

He raised an eyebrow at the strange request, before reaching behind the bar and pulling out a cold can of soda, looking up at Éponine as he did so. “You sure you don’t want anything to go along with this?” he asked, getting to work on Musichetta’s drink.

“Just trust me on this one,” Éponine replied dryly.

He shrugged, pulling up the drink for her friend and sliding it to her. “So,” he began, leaning on the bar. “What are the two of you doing here at this hour, hm? We don’t get many coming in here around this time,” he asked.

Éponine jabbed a thumb at Musichetta. “The roommate here made me get out of the apartment for a little while today. I’d been…” she trailed off, not wanting to tell the truth all of a sudden. “Busy with work. I-I’m an Investment Research Analyst.”

The bartender nodded. “Sounds neat. What about you?” he turned to her friend.

“Me?” Musichetta laughed. “I’m just here with Éponine. My boyfriend and his friends will be by later, though.”

“Éponine?” he grinned mischievously at her. “Pretty name...”

The brunette could feel herself blush greatly and she looked away while he fixed his eyes on her. She could feel his stare on her as much as she could hear Musichetta chuckling.

“Well, I guess I’ll be expecting a crowd tonight, right? With your boyfriend and all, correct?” he chuckled, leaning towards Musichetta.

She giggled, already understanding what he was implying. “Guess so, sure your boss will be happy with that one then.”

The bartender slithered back to Éponine and stood right in front of her. She still wouldn’t lift her gaze from the Coke in her hand and so he reached his finger out and traced it along the edge of her glass. “So, besides being gorgeous, what else do you do for a living?”

Éponine nearly choked and she dared her eyes to meet his just to see if he was being serious. Her face was bright red now as she fought to even answer his question. “Um...” she paused to clear her throat, “I-I...told you...I-I’m an Investment Research Analyst.”

“Mmhmm,” he murmured as his fingers found her hand and began tracing it instead of the glass. “Fascinating,” he added a bit mockingly.

Éponine heaved a sigh, she wasn’t blind as to what he was doing, but she didn’t really want any of it. It was odd, really, any other time, she would be jumping at the chance to wind up in someone else’s bed, but there was only one person’s bed she could dream of right now. She pulled her hand from his grasp, resting her head in the palm of her hand as she took a sip of her Coke.

“What’s the matter with you?” the bartender inquired, noticing her demeanor change.

Éponine picked herself up off the counter. “It’s nothing,” she replied simply, “Sorry, I just – I just think I’m ready to go home.” She spun her stool to the side and jumped to her feet.

“Éponine,” Musichetta chided, “C’mon…we’ve barely even been here an hour.”

“Yeah, c’mon, Éponine, don’t be like this,” the bartender jumped in. Éponine looked towards the door longingly, which didn’t go unnoticed by him. “C’mon, lemme tell you what, you sit back down, and I’ll make you something special...and on the house,” he said smoothly, adding a flirtatious wink.

Éponine held back the want to scoff at him.

“Hear that Ép, it’s on the house! Please, oh please, just sit back down,” Musichetta pleaded, pouting her lower lip.

Éponine stuttered looking about. “Sorry,” was all she could actually say before she started walking to the door.

“Éponine! Hey, Éponine, wait!” this wasn’t Musichetta calling her, it was the bartender. Éponine turned back and looked at him as he beckoned her closer with his index finger.

She debated internally about her next course of action but when she looked at Musichetta sitting there with her big puppy-dog eyes, Éponine caved in and walked back to them.

The bartender called her closer still as she approached the counter. She leaned over the counter as he wanted so he could whisper to her. He breathed low and huskily into her ear, “I just made you come with one finger, imagine what else I could do with my whole hand.”

Éponine’s mouth fell open.

 

He had never driven so fast to The Black Horse Tavern before. He thought the wheels on his motorcycle might burst from how fast he was traveling but it was all worth it – it was going to be worth it…he hoped.

Enjolras found a cozy spot by the end of the bar counter in perfect view of the front entrance. It was still early in the night – well, technically afternoon, since it was just approaching 3:00 – so there weren’t many people. And as he figured, Éponine was not here yet…he hoped.

“Ah! If it isn’t Enjolras!” the gruff bartender spoke, coming up behind him. Enjolras turned around and gave him a friendly grin. “What brings you here so early? Gettin’ ahead, I see.”

Enjolras grimaced for a moment. “Actually, I’m waiting for someone.”

The bartender’s eyes nearly shot out of his head. “Really, now? Well, who’s the lucky girl?”

“Remember the drinking contest the other night?”

“The one you choked on? Literally…” the bartender sniggered.

Enjolras rubbed his jaw, trying not to let the irritation get to him. “Yeah, that one,” he said brusquely. “Well, the girl who competed against me – that’s who I’m waiting for.”

The bartender laughed loudly and gruffly. “Well, she must’a been something then if you’re seein’ her again!” Enjolras nodded as a smile crept up back on his face. “So, what time is she supposed to get here?”

The smile fell once again from his face. “Yeah…well…um…I don’t know.”

He threw his head back laughing. “So let me get this straight – you’re waiting for a girl who doesn’t even know she’s supposed to meet you here?”

Enjolras leaned on his elbows on top of the bar counter and buried his face in his hands in embarrassment. The bartender was exactly right. But Enjolras wasn’t about to give up his plan, no matter how idiotic it actually sounded.

 

And so he waited. He waited until more people arrived and it was now well into the night. And so he watched. He watched guys lure girls and girls flirt with guys. He watched them hit it off together before they’d sneak away out of the bar together for a blissful night. And yet again, his thoughts found their way back to Éponine and he reminisced on how he did the exact same thing with her. So he just waited some more, knowing she would waltz through those doors in her black leather jacket and dark skinny jeans. They would chat and flirt and then he’d lead her back to his apartment for round two…he hoped.

But the waiting was killing him. He downed beer after beer just killing time waiting for those velvet dark eyes and those chocolate locks to stroll their way back into his life. He was so consumed in his thoughts that he barely even registered when a striking woman took a seat next to him.

“Hope this seat isn’t taken,” she purred.

Finally, Enjolras turned his eyes up to stare at her, and for a moment he thought he was staring into her eyes. But it was just the beer letting him see things. This woman was pretty but that was all she was. She had similar dark long hair with matching eyes. But her face was scrawnier and her voice was a few octaves lower than Éponine’s. And it was clear; this woman was not Éponine. Defeated, Enjolras turned his gaze back to the beer in his hands.

“Is it hot in here, or is it only hot because I sat next to you?” she quipped, fanning herself a little. She waited to see a response from Enjolras, but she received a stoic look into his beer bottle. So she batted her eyes a little and pushed her chest out. “You look a little lonely tonight,” she said, leaning in closer to him. “Who are you drinking about?”

Enjolras shrugged, content to not really say anything, content to just ignore her and her advancements. He stared down into the neck of the bottle. Against his better judgment, he answered her. “It doesn’t matter; she’s not coming anyway.”

The woman raised an intrigued eyebrow and smiled. She rested her hand down on the counter, right next to Enjolras’ but not touching his. “Is that so? Why not?” she smirked.

He looked at her briefly, just enough to see her mischievous smile before he turned away. “I don't know,” he muttered. How could he very well explain the situation to this perfect stranger?

She delicately reached her pinky up and stroked the back of Enjolras’ hand. Her touch evoked absolutely no reaction from him. So unlike Éponine’s. “Sounds to me like you could use some company tonight…or just someone who can make the loneliness go away.” She grasped Enjolras’ hand completely now, prying it away from his beer bottle and lacing her fingers in his. “…and I know just the person who can do that,” she whispered in his ear.

If this were any other night before he had met Éponine, perhaps Enjolras would’ve taken up this strikingly beautiful woman on her offer. She was practically throwing herself at him, and Enjolras knew that if he took her home, he could have some serious fun with her. But this woman could not compare. She was not Éponine, and Enjolras was done talking to her. He didn’t want her or anyone else. He realized then and there, he only wanted Éponine.

He pulled his hand from hers. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, “I can’t do this.” The woman looked dumbfounded at the rejection and quickly Enjolras stood to his feet, excusing himself from the now awkward ordeal.

“You don’t have to – ”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, cutting her off. “I-I…” he stuttered as he took a step backwards. What was happening to him? He was normally so good with words, but now he couldn’t say anything to save his life. Without another word, Enjolras backed into the crowd of people behind him and scurried away.

Somehow his feet took him to the restroom where he grabbed onto the sink and leaned over it for support, breathing heavily. The fluorescent lights of the bathroom were completely blinding. He took in a few deep breaths to compose himself. Why was he even acting like this? It was because of Éponine, he knew. He just wanted her.

He turned on the tap and splashed some cool water over his face. He needed her. He would give anything in that moment just to see her. But what could he do? She was probably lost now forever…how would he ever see her again? If only it was like those cliché romantic movies where the characters pine for each other, and then suddenly they appear with no thought or warning, and it’s a happy ending from there. But life is not a romantic comedy. There are no fantasy moments that happen exactly when you want them to. He thought he had learned that a long time ago, but clearly, Éponine had erased the lesson from his mind.

“Gabriel!” a voice shouted. It sounded like it was happening right next to him. His head snapped up, he knew that voice.

“Éponine?” he called out, looking about the tiny room.

“Oh, Gabriel…” the voice sighed this time. It was at that moment, the handicap stall door burst open and two people came tumbling out, hands groping each other, clothes half hanging on, and faces glued to one another as if the other was life support. “Gabriel! Gabriel!” she panted between breaths for air.

Enjolras grit his teeth at the scene before him. It appeared clichés were only for the movies. Life did not have any to give and it seemed life only had this cruel way of rubbing it in. The pair didn’t even acknowledge his presence as the man – presumably Gabriel – slammed the girl against the adjacent wall, grinding his hips against hers.

“Yes!” she sighed.

Suddenly, memories of a few nights ago bombarded his mind, when it was Éponine in the very same position, chanting his name and finally succumbing to the word: “Yes.”

He felt himself growing aroused at the mere thought of Éponine and himself in that intimate scene and he knew he needed to leave the room, before the current situation became even more awkward for the three of them.

 

It was Tuesday. Tuesday meant that Éponine had that meeting with Marius at the Musain and she just hoped to God that that sleazy bartender would not be there. She was in no way prepared to face him again.

But of course, lo and behold, when Éponine entered the Musain and Marius had yet to show, she had to take a seat and wait for him. She took a shy seat at the bar counter two seats away from some burly man. She made sure to check that it wasn’t the same bartender from before but as he had his back turned she couldn’t really tell. He doesn’t look the same, from behind anyway, she thought. Then, as the bartender turned around, Éponine had the nerve to walk out right then and there but as he saw her suddenly sitting before her, he grinned widely.

The bartender sauntered his way closer to her and smirked, “Well, if it isn’t my good friend, Éponine.”

“You say another two words to me, and I’ll get a restraining order against you,” she quipped.

“Feisty, are we?” he said with a mock shock. “Look, I must apologize for my behavior last time...I didn’t - I just - Well, I don’t know what came over me.”

Éponine grimaced, skeptical of his apology. “Look, the only reason I’m not getting up and leaving right now is because I’m supposed to meet my friend here.”

“Understandable. Why don’t we just try this again, hm?” She made a face, but he was undeterred. “So, you said some IRS-something-or-other, right?”

She laughed bitterly, reluctantly giving in to trying this again. Might as well be civil at least until Marius shows up. “I’m an Investment Research Analyst. I work at Prudential. Not as exciting as it sounds, trust me on that one.”

“Riveting tale, but I have one better,” he chuckled. Even if they were starting again, she could tell his attitude was still pretentious. “Had two drunk men hop onto the bar the other day. Fell over after about ten seconds; surprised they were able to balance that long…”

Éponine actually laughed aloud, in spite of herself. “Seriously? I wish my job were that entertaining!”

“Oh trust me, the cleanup afterwards wasn’t nearly as entertaining but I have a feeling it was worth the trouble,” he snickered. “Personally, I would’ve preferred women instead of topless drunk men, but hey. What’s a bartender gonna do?” he shrugged.

She snorted. “Well, pretty much all we do at my office is just a lot of number crunching, all tops on.”

“Shame, I prefer the alternative myself, but that’s just me,” he winked, chuckling lightly. “Just spices things up a bit, in my opinion.”

Éponine smirked a little. “Well, to each his own, I suppose.”

He shrugged, looking around the place. “We hardly ever get people coming in at this time,” he said, leaning on the bar. “So to hear that you are meeting with someone here was a bit surprising, to say the least. What sort of business would you be talking about?” He grinned, leaning a bit closer to her; a little too close for comfort. “Nothing too shady, I hope,” he said, standing back up.

Éponine chuckled. “Nothing shady at all; just helping him out with some business proposals for a friend’s father. Which mostly means I’ll be double checking his math, since that’s my/area.”

“Ah, I see,” the bartender mused as he reached under the bar and poured her a glass of soda. “Coke? Like last time?”

Éponine actually felt a smile cross her lips. “That’s perfect, thank you.”

“Éponine! Éponine!” a voice called and soon a sweaty hand found her shoulder.

“Ah, Marius. Nice of you to finally join me,” she chided lightly as he took a seat beside her.

“I know, I know,” he breathed heavily. Éponine couldn’t help but notice his disheveled hair and sweaty pits. “I’m sorry I’m late. It’s just Cosette – ”

“Say no more, Marius,” Éponine interjected, waving a hand to stop his train of thought. “I get it.”

The bartender eyed her mischievously. “You never said your friend was a guy.”

“Excuse me,” Marius interrupted. “Do I know you?”

Éponine shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Marius,” she said before turning a sharp gaze to the bartender. “He’s a friend, and I am sure it’s none of your business.”

He held up his hands in defense. “Got it. A guy knows when to take his leave,” he muttered.

“Only as of now,” Éponine quipped under her breath as he backed away.

Marius gave her a quizzical look. “That guy bothering you?”

She smiled genuinely, “I said, don’t worry about it.”

He gave a nod before his features perked up suddenly. “So let’s get to work,” he said as he began pulling binders, papers, and notebooks from his satchel. “The guys will be here in 30 for the meeting. And since I was late we don’t have much time.”

“Well, let’s get started, then,” she said, scooting her chair around to sit next to him. “What have you got for me?”

 

Tuesday had finally rolled around, and Enjolras had never been more depressed in his life. Every day, it was harder for him to get Éponine out of his head, and it infuriated him to no end. All of the _Amis_ had been asking about him constantly, trying to make him feel better; Grantaire even asked for permission to set him up on a blind date. All he wanted was to stay in his apartment and mope, but the _Amis_ had insisted that he come to that night’s meeting.

He had been going to the Black Horse for days, waiting for Éponine to come back, but there had been no sign of her anywhere. Not even a whisper of her name on the streets. Enjolras had resigned himself to the fact that he would never see her again, but he couldn’t let her go.

Shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear it, he hopped onto his motorcycle and rode over to the Musain for the night’s meeting. Even after so long, he couldn’t peg what it was about that woman that kept him hoping, waiting, thinking of her day in and day out.

 _For Christ’s sake, Gabriel, get a hold of yourself,_ he chided himself as he rolled up at the Musain, killing the engine of his bike and carrying his helmet under his arm. _You’re never going to see her again._

“So that’s it, then?” A startlingly familiar female voice said as he opened the door to the Café.

“Yeah, I think I’ve got what I need. Thanks, Éponine!” Marius answered enthusiastically.

Enjolras stopped dead in his tracks. _What did he just say?_

As she turned her head to wave goodbye to Marius with a smile, Enjolras’ heart skipped a beat. It was her. There was no denying he’d found Éponine again. Because love has a way of leading you back to the one you think you’ve lost.

She must have spotted him out of the corner of her eye, because she turned to face him. He watched her eyes widen when she saw him, and he swallowed hard. For just a moment, it was only them in the room. Everything else seemed to dissipate around them as they stared at each other in utter disbelief. It felt like a dream. He couldn’t hear anything except the pounding of his heart in his ears and almost automatically, he found himself walking towards her.

Enjolras stopped when he reached her. “Hey,” he said softly.

Éponine nodded. “Hey,” she said at an equal volume, smiling a little and wetting her lips to speak. “I, uh…I haven’t seen you around these last few days.”

“Yeah, no I…I got busy with work,” he stammered, rubbing his forehead. _God, what am I even saying? All I did was mope that I couldn’t see you._ He swallowed hard to ask, “How’ve you been?”

Éponine nodded a little. “I’ve been alright. I, uh…I got busy with some work, too,” she said, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. Enjolras could tell the conversation was painfully awkward for her, too. “So uh…what brings you here?” she asked abruptly.

He was thankful for the change of subject. “Meeting with some friends,” he said. “Yourself?”

“My friend Marius needed my help drawing up some business proposals for Cosette’s father. Mostly, I just had to double check his math,” she chuckled.

Enjolras couldn’t help but smile at hearing that laugh again, no matter how soft it was. It was her laugh. Then her words got through his head. “Wait, you know Marius?” he asked in surprise. “How do _you_ know Marius?”

Éponine chuckled. “Known him for years. What about you?”

“Well, I have these weekly meetings here at the Musain, Marius come to them along with – ”

“Don’t tell me these are the same meetings that Joly and his friends go to.”

“Wait, you know Joly, too?” he asked incredulously. This was getting downright eerie. How could she possibly know so many of his friends?

“Well yeah, he’s – ”

“ÉPONINE!” another female voice hollered from the other side of the Café.

She sighed heavily. “Oh, boy.”

Enjolras raised an eyebrow as he looked at her. “Let me guess, ‘Chetta’s a friend of yours as well?”

“My roommate, actually,” Éponine answered tightly just as the blonde bounded over to them with a devilish grin on her face.

“Well, that would explain a lot,” Enjolras chuckled as his confusion dissipated. “How are you, ‘Chetta?” he asked, turning to her.

“Oh, I’m fine,” she grinned. “Enj, do you know Éponine?”

Éponine chuckled. “There’s a funny story there, ‘Chetta. Me and _Gabriel_ here have actually met before…under quite interesting circumstances,” she smirked smugly.

Musichetta’s jaw dropped. “Wait…Gabriel? This is _the_ Gabriel?”

“Yep.”

“…Oh Lord.”

Enjolras blushed deep scarlet. “Let the record state that we were both _very_ drunk when that happened,” he muttered under his breath.

“It was your fault for having all that tequila in the first place, genius,” Éponine remarked snidely, even though she was grinning.

“And yours for not listening when I told you to put it down,” Enjolras retorted just as sharply.

Suddenly feeling like a third wheel, Musichetta cleared her throat awkwardly. “Um…still here, you guys.”

“Er…right, sorry,” Éponine said awkwardly. “Um…do you guys wanna sit down somewhere, or…?”

“There’s an empty table over there,” Enjolras pointed.

Éponine nodded. She looked back at Musichetta and Enjolras, and the three of them went to sit down at the empty table. “So…” Éponine started uncertainly, “how did you and Enjolras meet, ‘Chetta?”

Musichetta smiled a big dopey smile. “Well, I met Joly in college…same med class, as you know. But Joly was friends with Enjolras…and I was friends with Joly…and so here we are I guess.”

Éponine chuckled as Enjolras’ blush crept back into his cheeks. “That’s nice,” she concurred a little lamely.

“So!” Musichetta piped in loudly. “I can’t imagine the two of you would ever start talking in a bar; how the heck did that happen?”

Now it was Enjolras’ turn to chuckle and grin. “Well, to be perfectly honest, it just sort of…happened. I went to the Black Horse for a drink one night, and then a few minutes later, BAM! The door opens and there was Éponine.”

“He was the one to initiate the conversation,” Éponine jumped in. “And before we knew it, we were arguing about my alcohol tolerance – ”

“And then you called me my first name…” Enjolras interjected.

“Oh, right, I forgot about that…Gabriel,” she grinned.

Enjolras’ smirk dropped like a hot rock. Éponine could only chuckle and flash her gorgeous smile at him, her eyes shining the whole time. “Hey, you were asking for it that time.”

The smirk slowly crept back to his face as he relaxed. “Guess so,” he muttered and then turned back to Musichetta. “Well, then one thing led to another and soon we were challenging each other to a drinking contest.”

“Oh, right,” Musichetta laughed. “Éponine was telling me about that.”

“Hey!” Éponine said, abruptly turning serious. Both of her companions paused to look at her, but she was staring straight at Enjolras. “If I’m not mistaken, you still owe me a date.”

“…In your dreams.”

“Come on!” she whined. “We had a deal!”

“I was already drunk when we made that deal,” he lied through his clenched teeth without looking at her.

“Oh, that’s bullshit and we both know it,” Éponine snapped.

Musichetta could sense that things were going to get ugly quickly. “Um…if you two need me, I’ll be at the bar,” she said, standing up. “I think you have some talking to do.”

Éponine sighed. “You’re right. Thanks, ‘Chetta.” Her roommate excused herself, and the two of them were left alone at the table, an awkward tension still hanging in the air. “I know you’re lying about the deal,” she said softly, looking down at the table and absentmindedly fiddling with a loose grain of wood.

“I was,” he muttered awkwardly, putting a hand to his forehead and pinching the bridge of his nose. “To be honest…I was kicking myself for not getting your number the minute you left my apartment. I Googled your name, but I was too afraid to call the number I found.” He paused. “I kept asking myself what would happen if it wasn’t you, what I would do if I did find you again…and I couldn’t think of an answer.”

A small smirk crossed her face, and she pulled a napkin in front of her, scrawling down 10 digits with the pen in her purse. “There you have it,” she said, pushing the napkin over to him. “No more need to worry.”

Enjolras just laughed and smiled at her, so grateful to see that spark in her eyes again. “So how about that date?”

He didn’t know what made him love the way she looked, the way she acted, or those perfect dimples that showed when she smiled. He only knew that he might actually love her, and that she might actually love him.

But how does a guy like him get a girl like her to stay? Love has a way.


End file.
